Most balcony railings do exactly one thing: keep people from falling off. The corners, in particular, tend to collect nothing more useful than rust and pigeons. Rephorm, a Berlin-based furniture brand, has a different idea about what that corner could be doing, and the result is a planter that fits where no standard pot ever has.
The Eckling is designed specifically for balcony corners, addressing a gap that rectangular window boxes and round hanging pots have never managed to fill. Most railing planters sit along a straight stretch of rail, so corners get skipped entirely. An L-shaped recess cut into the base of the hemispherical bowl allows it to rest squarely on two railing legs at a corner junction, no extra hardware required.
This is actually the second generation of Rephorm’s thinking on railing planters. The brand’s original Steckling pot, developed in 2006, introduced the idea of a planter that simply drops onto the rail rather than clipping or hanging. The Eckling borrows that logic and extends it to corner placement. Two plastic cable ties hidden beneath the bowl add security in wind, and the design fits railing stock up to 80mm wide across flat steel, round, and rectangular profiles.
At roughly 44cm in diameter, the Eckling offers about double the planting area of a standard round railing pot. The bowl holds approximately 16 liters of soil, nearly three times the capacity of a typical balcony planter. For anyone who has watched a small pot dry out in a single July afternoon, that volume difference matters. More soil means deeper root runs and longer intervals between watering, practical for herbs or compact perennials filling the wide, shallow bowl.
The material is recyclable polyethylene with a wall thickness Rephorm claims is two to three times that of budget planters from hardware stores. At approximately 2.5kg unfilled, the bowl is noticeably heavier than thin-walled alternatives, and that weight is part of the structural argument. Frost resistance is built into the formulation, so the pot stays through winter rather than being hauled inside each autumn. The matte surface reads closer to coated ceramic than the hollow appearance most balcony planters carry.
One real limitation is worth knowing before ordering. If corner posts project above the top rail line, the L-shaped recess cannot seat properly. The geometry only works when corner posts are flush with or below the horizontal rail, common in modern flat-steel and tube railings but less so in older ornamental ironwork, where vertical elements continue past the handrail. That’s a non-starter for a number of older apartment balconies, so it is worth measuring the railing before committing.
The Eckling is made in Germany, and the design is by Berlin-based architect Michael Hilgers, whose broader practice around what he calls “pragmatic design” tends to focus on modest objects that improve existing infrastructure without replacing it. A balcony corner is about as modest a canvas as it gets.
Desk organizers have a reputation problem. Most are either forgettable plastic trays that could have come from any office supply aisle, or overdesigned contraptions that look busier than the mess they’re meant to fix. Joe Colombo, the Milanese designer who died at just 41, had a very different take on this problem back in 1970, and it looked like nothing else on a desk then or now.
That design was BOB, a compact object holder made from polyurethane gel that Colombo shaped into something unmistakably organic. The form is elongated and low-profile, almost pill-shaped from above, with one end rising into a soft dome and the other tapering nearly flat. B-Line, an Italian label dedicated to acquiring original molds from discontinued Italian design objects, reissued it in 2023 in five colors: terracotta, slate blue, mustard yellow, warm white, and a translucent frosted version called “ice.”
The top surface divides into three zones with no visible partition between them. The dome end opens into a large oval scoop for bulkier items; the center holds a 3-by-4 grid of individual circular holes, each sized for a single pen or brush; the tapered tail has two horizontal slot grooves that hold flat objects like rulers or small notebooks upright. None of this reads as a spec sheet in person. It reads as a single continuous gesture that happens to organize things.
Colombo was working at a moment when Italian design was treating plastic not as a cheap substitute for better materials, but as a medium with its own formal possibilities. Polyurethane gel has a tactile quality most rigid desk accessories never attempt: it gives slightly under pressure, has a matte surface that’s almost skin-like, and its flexibility is what makes the low, curved profile structurally possible in the first place. A stiffer material would have needed walls. This one doesn’t.
B-Line’s campaign photography makes a quiet argument for where BOB actually belongs. It appears on a marble coffee table holding binder clips and scissors, on a chair seat catching pencils and sunglasses, and on a bathroom vanity with makeup brushes in the pen holes and cotton pads in the scoop. One image places the ice-colored version inside a freezer, either a dry joke about the colorway name or a genuine hint that the flexible polyurethane handles cold fine. Probably both.
That flexibility is worth taking seriously. BOB lies nearly flat on any surface, which means it doesn’t create visual clutter the way upright organizers do. It also means the pen holes require implements long enough to stay upright on their own, which is a quiet limitation Colombo’s grid doesn’t advertise. Short lipstick caps, small erasers, and anything under roughly 10 centimeters will just rattle around rather than stand.
The price reflects provenance more than function. B-Line sells through retail partners, not directly to consumers, and those partners have set their own figures: Design Public at $190, Bauhaus 2 Your House at $427. Colombo’s other B-Line reissue, the Boby trolley, is in MoMA’s permanent collection. BOB is the quieter object from the same designer and the same era, and it raises a question the images don’t quite answer: how many rooms does a well-made desk organizer need to conquer before that price starts to feel reasonable?
Low-profile mechanical keyboards have always had a bit of an identity problem. They look the part: slim, clean, desk-friendly. Set one beside a MacBook and it fits right in, at least until you start typing and the plastic keycaps remind you that the aesthetic only goes so far. It is not that PBT is bad. It is just that plastic has a ceiling, and once you have typed on a well-built board, you start to feel where that ceiling is. The sound is a little hollow. The surface wears down. For a form factor that sells itself on refinement, the keycaps have always been the weakest part of the pitch.
That gap is exactly what Awekeys Air is designed to fill. These are low-profile metal keycaps built from recycled cupronickel, a copper-nickel alloy most people know from coins rather than keyboards. Beyond the material upgrade, there is an immediate visual payoff. A set of Satin Copper or Satin Gold caps on a slim board transforms what was previously just a functional object into something that actually improves the desk around it, the kind of detail that catches the eye mid-conversation and holds it.
At 5 mm tall, the Awekeys Air is half the height of a standard keycap, which typically sits at around 11 mm. That gap matters more than it sounds. A slim keyboard paired with standard-height keycaps loses its whole visual argument, and any ergonomic board designed for low-profile switches defeats its own purpose if you pile taller caps on top. The Air keeps that geometry honest while upgrading what that geometry is made of.
As someone who writes for a living and codes on the side, I see the keyboard as less a tool and more a constant physical companion, and the I find that the Awekeys Air shifts that relationship in a way that is difficult to ignore. The cupronickel surface stays cool under extended sessions, the low profile keeps wrist angle natural, and the grip from the hand-brushed Special Edition means fingers land where they are meant to, without any of the slight drift that smooth plastic encourages over a long afternoon.
Finish is where the Awekeys Air earns a lot of its character. Seven keycap colorways cover the satin-style options: Satin Gold, Satin Silver, Satin Copper, Titanium Black, Obsidian Black in matte, Ivory White in matte, and Sakura Pink. Each of them reads differently on metal than on plastic. Satin Copper picks up warm ambient light in a way no dye-sublimated PBT can replicate. Titanium Black has that flat, composed surface that makes a keyboard look more like a precision instrument than a peripheral. Small distinctions, but they add up when the whole point is a desk setup that looks as considered as it feels.
The Special Edition hand-brushed finish takes things a step further, available in Gold, Silver, Copper, and Ti Black. Each keycap is brushed individually, which creates a directional texture that shifts under light and adds a grip that the satin versions do not have. It is the kind of finishing detail that is easy to overlook in a product photo and immediately obvious the moment you sit down to type.
Holding it all together is a second-generation nano-coating that Awekeys claims delivers twice the scratch resistance of its first version. For keycaps that will see thousands of actuations daily, surface protection matters more on metal than on plastic, where wear is expected and mostly forgiven. The coating is what keeps the finish consistent across the whole set over time, and on a metal that is this unforgiving of surface variation, that consistency is doing real work.
The recycled angle is worth taking seriously, too. Awekeys notes that processing recycled cupronickel requires roughly 15% of the energy needed for raw metal extraction. giving the material story a logic beyond a simple badge. The acoustic character completes the picture: denser, more planted, with a sound that leans satisfying rather than sharp. The slim keyboard has been waiting a long time for a keycap set built to match it, and the Awekeys Air makes a strong case that the wait is over.
There’s a certain kind of person who loves the idea of vinyl records without necessarily owning a turntable. They appreciate the artwork, the ritual of flipping a side, the warm analog aesthetic that streaming services have spent years trying to replicate with album art thumbnails and animated soundwave graphics. For that person, and honestly for plenty of actual vinyl collectors too, LEGO quietly released one of its more charming sets of 2024, and a lot of people missed it entirely.
The LEGO 40699 Retro Record Player wasn’t sold in stores. It was a gift-with-purchase exclusive during LEGO Insiders Weekend in November 2024, meaning you had to spend $250 or more on LEGO.com within a two-day window to take one home. That’s a steep entry point for a 310-piece set that fits in the palm of your hand. Unsurprisingly, it’s now showing up on secondary markets for around $50, which tells you more about how people actually feel about it than the promotional circumstances suggest.
What makes it interesting as a design object isn’t the scarcity. It’s the details LEGO chose to include for a freebie that most buyers would have been happy to receive with far less effort. Every single element in the set is printed, no stickers anywhere, including new tile pieces featuring equalizer bars and musical note graphics that were debuted specifically for this set.
The needle swivels and can be tucked behind a small antenna piece when not in use. Flip it around, and there are printed red, white, and grey ports on the back representing stereo channels, details that nobody asked for and that audio enthusiasts will immediately clock. A hidden gear underneath lets the record actually spin, which is either a delightful touch or a reminder that LEGO designers genuinely cannot help themselves.
The set slots into a growing line of brick-built nostalgia objects LEGO has been developing with some consistency. The Retro Radio, the Typewriter, the Polaroid OneStep Camera, each one picks a specific object from cultural memory and asks whether it still means enough to someone to sit on a shelf. The record player fits that pattern, though its scale is more playful than faithful. Closed, it measures about 1.5 inches high and 6 inches wide, so it’s not pretending to be a replica. It’s more like a knowing nod to the thing, compressed into something you can place next to a real turntable or a stack of records and let it be what it is.
The timing of its renewed attention is interesting. Search interest in record players has spiked noticeably in early March 2025, and the LEGO set has moved with it, picking up momentum in trend data well after its promotional window closed. That’s a pattern worth watching with this category of LEGO set. They’re not designed to chase a specific cultural moment. They’re designed around objects durable enough in people’s memories to stay relevant across multiple ones.
Whether a 310-piece brick turntable that doesn’t play music belongs in the same conversation as the real vinyl revival is a fair question. What’s harder to dismiss is that a set distributed as a promotional freebie is generating genuine collector interest months later, and that LEGO apparently left enough room in the design for people to discover details they weren’t expecting to find.
Game controllers have not changed much in shape since the mid-1990s. They’re still two-handed symmetrical slabs built around adult grip dimensions, loaded with enough buttons to pilot a small aircraft. For a 10-year-old just getting into gaming, picking one up for the first time is a bit like being handed a TV remote and told to perform surgery, no sweat.
The concept is called LEVION, and it proposes a split controller: two separate units, one per hand, each sized for a pre-teen’s palm. It was designed as a rethink of the thumb stick from scratch, and the result looks like nothing in the current gaming peripheral market, which is mostly the point. And its inspiration comes from the most unlikely source you can imagine.
The form comes from a seahorse, specifically its upright posture, curved spine, and ridged body. Those horizontal ridges, translated into a soft frill around the base of each unit, are the structural logic of the grip. A seahorse’s bony plates give it stability without bulk, and LEVION’s ridges do the same thing for a small hand holding a rounded object across an hour of gameplay. It’s biomimicry that connects cause to effect rather than borrowing a shape for decoration.
Each unit carries a joystick, three face buttons, and a shoulder button, arranged on a circular head that sits atop a curved hourglass body. The silhouette is wider at the head and base, pinched at the waist, giving the thumb a natural landing zone and keeping the unit from rotating mid-game. The sketch process started with a seahorse drawing annotated “grip inspiration” before moving through VR console proportions to arrive at this form, so the shape isn’t just decorative shorthand.
The colorways lean into the pre-teen audience: pink, mint green, sky blue, and lavender, all in a soft matte finish that reads more like a toy than a peripheral. That positioning is deliberate. Standard controllers signal seriousness and capability. LEVION signals approachability, which matters when the target user is still sorting out that the left stick moves the character and the right one moves the camera.
The honest question is one of input coverage. A standard PlayStation controller has two joysticks, a D-pad, four face buttons, four shoulder buttons, and several system controls. LEVION offers a joystick, three face buttons, and one shoulder button per hand. For casual and younger audiences, that might be exactly right. For anything more demanding, the math gets uncomfortable, and the concept doesn’t address how that gap closes when the pre-teen turns 13.
That’s worth taking seriously, but it doesn’t diminish what LEVION gets right in the space it occupies. The design’s own research board lists the Nintendo Switch Joy-Cons as a reference point, and the parallel is fair: the Joy-Con also split a standard controller into two smaller units and found an audience that didn’t know it needed that format. LEVION asks the same question one step earlier in the age range, in a form that a kid might actually want to reach for.
Most people who own an iPhone, an Apple Watch, and AirPods have quietly accepted the nightstand situation: three cables, two adapters, and a general sense that none of this should be as complicated as it is. The chargers come off the desk in different orders every morning, find their way into bags, and somehow never make it back to the same spot twice. Journey’s ARIA 3-in-1 Wireless Charging Station is built as a direct answer to that arithmetic problem.
The ARIA is Qi2-certified and Made for Apple, which places it in a fairly short list of chargers cleared to deliver the full 15W to an iPhone 12 or newer. That Qi2 certification also means magnetic alignment is built into the standard, so the phone locks into position rather than needing to be nudged around until the charging indicator finally appears. It is a small difference that makes the whole routine feel more deliberate.
Apple Watch gets fast charging as well, and AirPods charge at up to 5W, all three running simultaneously from a single USB-C cable. That consolidates the whole power situation down to one cord running to one spot on the desk. One honest caveat: a 30W adapter is recommended for full performance but does not ship in the box, something worth factoring into the price tag before deciding how good the value proposition really is.
What separates the ARIA from a flat charging pad is a folding mechanism that gives it a second mode entirely. Lay it flat, and it works as a compact 2-in-1 pad, 16 cm long and under 2 cm thick, low-profile enough to disappear into most desk setups without demanding attention. Pop open the phone section, and it props the device up at just over 70 degrees, in either portrait or landscape. The transition takes about two seconds.
That dual-mode flexibility becomes more interesting when packing a bag. At 230g and folded down to 19mm, the ARIA fits into a Dopp kit without the usual negotiation over whether the gadget justifies the real estate. A magnetic alignment ring is included in the box for non-MagSafe phone cases, extending compatibility without requiring a case swap or any real effort.
Qi-enabled Android phones also work in flat mode, though at the reduced speeds their hardware supports rather than the full Qi2 ceiling. The ARIA handles international voltages from 100 to 240V as well, which means it travels without issue as long as you bring your own wall adapter and plug converter for the destination. For a device that sells itself on travel readiness, the missing adapter in the box still stings a little.
There is also a touch-controlled ambient light built into the base. A single tap produces a soft glow that works well at a bedside without flooding a dark room, and it beats reaching for a phone screen at 2 a.m. just to orient yourself. Small features like this tend to matter more in practice than they look on a spec sheet.
Packing a bag for a day of working away from a desk has become its own logistics puzzle. There is the hub for ports, the stand to prop the screen at a usable angle, the card reader for importing photos, and the charging cable to keep everything alive mid-session. Satechi’s OntheGo Foldable Stand Hub takes a direct swing at this by combining all of that into a single unit that folds flat to under 20mm and weighs just 187.5g.
The premise is simple. Unfold the stand, plug the attached 17 cm USB-C cable into a tablet or laptop, and the whole suite of ports is live: HDMI 2.0 output at up to 4K@60Hz, two 10 Gbps data ports (one USB-C, one USB-A), UHS-II SD and microSD slots at up to 312 MB/s, a 3.5mm audio jack, and 100W USB-C Power Delivery passthrough. That last feature delivers up to 85W to the host device, enough to sustain a MacBook Air or iPad Pro under a heavy session without draining the battery.
For photographers working on location, the card slots alone justify the bag space. Slide in a UHS-II SD card fresh from a camera, and the 312 MB/s ceiling means a full card of RAW files clears quickly. Connect a monitor through the HDMI port, and a hotel desk becomes something closer to a proper edit station, with the screen raised to a natural viewing height and footage already importing in the background.
Compatibility covers the expected range: iPad Pro, iPad Air, iPad mini (2021 and later), and recent iPhones. Worth noting: the iPad mini (2021) tops out at 5 Gbps on the data ports due to its own USB spec, not the hub’s. Outside of Apple’s garden, it also supports select Microsoft Surface Pro models and USB-C Android devices, especially ones that support Samsung DeX.
That last point is an important one. A compatible Samsung phone connected to an external monitor through this hub activates DeX mode, turning the phone into a desktop-style interface without needing a laptop at all. That said, you’ll need to hook up an external monitor to actually activate DeX mode.
At $79.99, the OntheGo Foldable Stand Hub sits in a space where stands and hubs are almost always sold separately, each typically running $30 to $60 on their own. What a spec sheet cannot answer is how the folding hinge holds up after months of daily packing and repacking, and whether the fixed 17cm cable length plays nicely with every desk configuration or occasionally creates its own awkward workarounds.
Modern laptops aren’t short on power, but they’re increasingly short on ports. One USB-C port ends up doing everything: charging, video out, storage, and peripherals, while a small pile of adapters accumulates next to the keyboard. The setup works, but it doesn’t look like the clean, minimal desk you were going for, and it means carrying more pieces than you’d like when you’re working somewhere that isn’t home.
ADAM elements’ Hub S is a USB-C hub with built-in SSD storage, designed around the idea that a hub and an external drive don’t need to be two separate objects. Instead of plugging in one thing for ports and another for files, you plug in one slim aluminum accessory that handles both. It isn’t trying to replace a full docking station, but it’s the right-sized tool for someone who needs the essentials covered without the clutter.
The built-in SSD is available in 240 GB, 480 GB, and 960 GB capacities, so there’s a size for whether you’re keeping a working project library or just enough space for recent shoots and backups. Having storage physically attached to your hub means it’s always there when you need to dump footage, move large project files, or keep a client’s assets close during a session, without remembering to pack a separate drive.
Transfer speeds are rated at up to 520 MB/s read and 456 MB/s write, which makes moving large files feel routine rather than something you schedule around. That kind of speed isn’t just a spec, though. It’s the difference between waiting through a transfer and forgetting it’s happening. For photographers and video editors working on the road, that matters more than it sounds on a product page.
For Mac users, the ADAM elements Hub S is also Apple Time Machine compatible. That means it can act as a rolling backup target every time you plug in, turning a habit that’s easy to forget into something that happens automatically. Backup isn’t exciting, but having it built into the same accessory you’re already using for everything else makes it feel less like a separate job.
The USB-C port on the hub supports PD 3.0 pass-through charging up to 60W, so your laptop doesn’t lose its charge while the hub is handling storage, display, and peripherals. That’s a meaningful consideration when you’re transferring large files and streaming to an external display at the same time, both of which can pull enough power to make a laptop feel like it’s running a sprint.
The HDMI port outputs up to 4K at 30Hz and supports HDCP 2.2, which is the protocol required for streaming 4K HDR content from services like Netflix. A lot of hubs advertise “4K output” but fail on DRM handshakes, so the HDCP 2.2 compliance isn’t a minor footnote. Whether you’re mirroring for a presentation or extending to a monitor for a proper editing session, the connection holds up where it matters.
Rounding out the port selection is a USB-A 3.1 port rated at up to 5 Gbps for peripherals or flash drives, and a 3.5mm headphone jack that supports 48kHz/16-bit audio. Neither is glamorous, but together they cover the inputs that would otherwise require yet another adapter. The aluminum alloy body is designed to sit flush on a desk surface, and the whole thing weighs about 2.5oz, roughly the weight of a single C battery.
The ADAM elements Hub S works best as the kind of accessory you stop thinking about. You plug it in, your files are there, your display is connected, your laptop is charging, and your headphones are plugged in. That’s it. For people who’d rather carry one considered piece of hardware than a small collection of adapters and drives, consolidating all of that into a single slim object that fits in a jacket pocket feels like the more sensible way to work.
Most wearable tech that puts an AI assistant in your ear assumes you want only theirs. The earpiece, the speaker, the entire software stack, all funneled through one model chosen for you before you even open the box. Rokid’s latest update to the AI Glasses Style takes a different position entirely, turning the glasses into what is effectively an open platform where you pick the brain behind the voice.
The update makes the Style the first smart glasses to natively support Google’s Gemini, sitting alongside OpenAI’s ChatGPT, DeepSeek, and Alibaba’s Qwen in a unified interface. Users toggle between them freely, which means reaching for Gemini for a quick Google Maps query and switching to ChatGPT for something else entirely is up to you.
The glasses themselves debuted at CES 2026 in January, and the hardware makes a reasonable case for the category. At 38.5 grams, with a TR90 frame and titanium alloy hinges, they sit closer to a regular pair of prescription glasses than anything resembling a prototype. The frame takes prescription lenses directly, with a fitting service starting at $79, including photochromic options in over 200 colors that darken within 25 seconds.
Powering the AI and imaging workload is a dual-chip setup: an NXP RT600 handles always-on, low-power tasks, while a Qualcomm AR1 manages heavier processing. The same Qualcomm chip is in Meta’s Ray-Ban glasses, though the battery life here runs to 12 hours, noticeably longer than Meta’s. A 12MP Sony-sensor camera sits at the bridge, capturing 4K stills and 3K 30fps video with up to 10 minutes of continuous recording. A privacy indicator light signals to people nearby when the camera is active.
Audio comes through directional AAC speakers built into the temples, focused toward the ears with minimal bleed. The AI interaction itself works through a two-finger tap to summon any of the four models, head gestures for call management, and voice prompts in 12 supported languages. Real-time translation, navigation, photo recognition, and AI-generated meeting summaries are all part of the feature set, fed through whichever model the user has selected.
For anyone already oriented around a specific AI assistant, the practical appeal is straightforward. Someone in Google’s ecosystem gets Gemini in their glasses without compromise; someone who prefers ChatGPT for writing picks that instead. At $299 to start, with a lens fitting service folding in prescription and photochromic options, the Style has cleared 15,000 units sold ahead of its formal global rollout, which is a reasonable early signal for a category still working out what it wants to be.
At some point in the last couple of years, something quietly shifted in the gaming world. Not in the blockbuster, billion-dollar-franchise sense, but in the more personal, “why am I actually having more fun with this tiny device than my main console” sense. Search interest in retro gaming handhelds jumped 400% year-over-year, hitting 90,500 monthly searches in January 2026 alone. That’s not a blip. That’s people rediscovering something they forgot they wanted, and then telling everyone they know about it.
What’s driving it isn’t hard to understand. Modern gaming has gotten heavy, with big installs, long tutorials, and games that feel like part-time jobs. A retro handheld sidesteps all of that. You pick it up, you’re playing something in thirty seconds, and it fits in your jacket pocket. The designs themselves have become worth caring about, too, from machined aluminum bodies to translucent clamshells to square screens that look like props from a ’90s anime. These aren’t budget toys. Some of them are genuinely beautiful objects that happen to play games. Here are seven that are worth your attention.
Anbernic RG Cube: The one with the square screen that somehow works
The first thing you notice about the RG Cube is the screen shape, a perfect square, and your brain immediately goes: that can’t be right. Gaming moved to widescreen fifteen years ago. A 1:1 display in 2024 looks like a design mistake, or at best a gimmick. It is neither. The 3.95-inch IPS panel at 720×720 turns out to be native to more retro games than you’d expect, with Game Boy, arcade titles, and Nintendo DS with dual-screen stacking all living here without compromise.
The broader package is hard to argue with. An octa-core Unisoc T820 processor and 8GB of RAM run Android 13, with emulator support up through PS2 and GameCube, though more demanding titles on those systems will push its limits. The asymmetric thumbstick layout borrows from the Steam Deck playbook, and the Saturn-inspired D-pad is precise without drama. At around $170, it comes in Beige White, Radiant Purple, Black, Grey, and the radiant purple has no right looking as good as it does.
What we liked
Square 1:1 screen is genuinely ideal for Game Boy, arcade, and DS emulation
RGB lighting and color options make it a genuinely attractive object
What we disliked
Widescreen games require letterboxing or aspect-ratio compromise
Demanding PS2 and GameCube titles push the processor to its limits
ModRetro Chromatic: The Game Boy Color that Nintendo never made
There’s a version of this product that could have been embarrassing: a magnesium alloy Game Boy Color clone bundled with a new Tetris cartridge, sold at $199. On paper, it sounds like a premium nostalgia trap. In practice, it’s one of the most carefully considered handheld devices released in years. It’s FPGA-based, meaning it reconstructs the Game Boy hardware at the circuit level rather than emulating it in software, which produces zero input latency and a millisecond-accurate match to original hardware behavior.
The physical design earns its price in ways spec sheets can’t capture. The curved battery compartment gives your hands something to grip. A physical volume wheel, a detail so obvious it’s shocking how rarely it appears on modern devices, lets you kill the sound without touching a menu. Colors run from Inferno and Bubblegum to a very wearable Wave blue, with English or Japanese button labeling as an option. It plays physical Game Boy and Game Boy Color cartridges only, which is either a dealbreaker or a feature, depending on how you think about focus.
What we liked
FPGA hardware delivers true zero input lag, not a software approximation
Magnesium alloy shell feels premium and genuinely durable
Comes bundled with a new Tetris cartridge
What we disliked
Plays only Game Boy and Game Boy Color cartridges, no ROMs or other systems
AA battery requirement adds ongoing cost; rechargeable Power Core is sold separately
Analogue Pocket: The one photographers keep picking up
The Analogue Pocket is the device that made the retro handheld conversation respectable. It uses an FPGA rather than software emulation and plays Game Boy, Game Boy Color, and GBA cartridges out of the box. Via cartridge adapters, it adds Game Gear, Neo Geo Pocket Color, Atari Lynx, TurboGrafx-16, PC Engine, and SuperGrafx. Via its microSD slot and the OpenFPGA community platform, it loads cores for nearly every retro system that ever existed. The 3.5-inch LCD at 1600×1440 and 615 ppi is, simply, one of the sharpest displays ever put in a handheld.
At $239, it sits at the premium end of this list, and it’s also frequently out of stock. Firmware updates require a microSD card reader, which feels like friction that shouldn’t exist on a $239 device. TV output needs the separately sold $99 Dock. These aren’t dealbreakers so much as signals that Analogue built this for the dedicated enthusiast first. If you want one device to handle everything in your retro library for the next decade, this is probably it.
What we liked
OpenFPGA community support covers an enormous range of retro systems
Plays GBA in addition to GB and GBC, plus many more with adapters
MicroSD slot enables ROM loading
Premium aluminum build with a distinctly modern design language
What we disliked
Frequently out of stock; restocks sell out within minutes
Firmware updates require an external microSD card reader
TV output requires a separately purchased $99 Dock
Retroid Pocket Flip 2: The clamshell that brought the GBA SP back with PS2 power
The GBA SP was the handheld that arguably peaked the clamshell form factor: it folded, it protected its own screen, and it had a backlit display before that was standard. The Retroid Pocket Flip 2 arrives in 2025 with that same closing-hinge energy, but with a 5.5-inch 1080p AMOLED screen, a Snapdragon 865 processor, and enough emulation horsepower to run PlayStation 2, GameCube, and Wii. When closed, it has roughly the same desk footprint as a modern smartphone. Closing the lid puts it to sleep; opening it wakes it up.
Color options include a translucent Ice Blue, GameCube Purple, a two-tone 16-bit US, and Black. Retroid clearly understands its audience. The AMOLED panel brings deep blacks and accurate color to games designed for CRTs, and the results are often striking for titles you’ve played a hundred times. At $229 for the Snapdragon variant, there is no meaningful clamshell competitor at this performance level. One persistent note from extended use: the form factor rewards shorter sessions more than marathon ones, which is maybe appropriate for a device meant to live in a bag pocket.
What we liked
5.5-inch AMOLED at 1080p is impressive for the price
Handles PS2, GameCube, Wii, and Dreamcast emulation
Translucent Ice Blue colorway is a design highlight
What we disliked
Thicker than it looks in product photos
Extended sessions can feel less comfortable than flat handhelds
AYANEO Pocket Micro Classic: The one that fits in an actual pocket
The Game Boy Micro launched in 2005 as Nintendo’s most polarizing hardware decision. It was tiny, it was beautiful, it only played GBA games, and it was discontinued within a year. Design historians were kinder to it than the market was. The AYANEO Pocket Micro Classic is clearly in conversation with that history. It removes the analog joysticks, uses a CNC-machined aluminum alloy frame with a seamless all-glass front, and produces something that slides into a front jeans pocket without catching on anything.
The 3.5-inch borderless IPS display at 960×640 in a 3:2 ratio is built for GBA emulation, with 4x pixel-perfect upscaling. Available in Obsidian Black, Charm Red, Vintage Grey, and Gold, each colorway has a different character. The Gold skips “gaming device” and lands somewhere closer to “considered object.” The MediaTek Helio G99 handles everything up through PS1 confidently. If your retro library is 8-bit and 16-bit with a strong GBA presence, the Pocket Micro Classic is probably the most beautiful way to play it.
What we liked
CNC aluminum and all-glass build is genuinely premium for the category
No joysticks make it notably slimmer and more pocketable
Android 13 with Play Store access expands utility beyond emulation
What we disliked
No joysticks limit N64, Dreamcast, and PSP playability
The original TrimUI Brick arrived in 2024 with an unusually sharp 3.2-inch IPS screen at 1024×768, giving it a pixel density of 405 PPI, a number that belongs on a premium smartphone, not a $55 device. The Brick Hammer edition, launched in 2025, replaces the plastic shell with a full CNC-machined aluminum alloy in Gunmetal Gray, Rose Gold, and Fluorescent Green. The metal shell doubles as a heatsink, dropping operating temperatures noticeably. Three interchangeable shoulder button sets ship in the box.
The software runs CrossMix OS on a Linux base: clean, fast, minimal overhead. Load your ROMs, pick a game, and play. Battery life lands around four to six hours. The processor handles Game Boy through PS1 without complaint; N64 gets through most titles; Dreamcast is inconsistent. The CNC backplate can be engraved, which no other device at this price point offers. The Rose Gold aluminum version sitting next to a MacBook on a desk looks less out of place than it has any right to, and that’s a strange and interesting thing to say about a $99 handheld.
What we liked
CNC aluminum Hammer shell runs noticeably cooler than the original plastic
Swappable shoulder buttons and engravable backplate are genuinely rare customization options
Rose Gold and Gunmetal colorways punch well above the budget tier
What we disliked
No analog joysticks, which limits 3D game compatibility
Dreamcast and demanding N64 titles run inconsistently
Miyoo Mini Plus (and Mini Flip): The one that started the whole obsession
If there’s a single device responsible for bringing this category to mainstream attention, the Miyoo Mini Plus is probably it. It weighs 200 grams, fits in a jeans pocket, has a 3.5-inch IPS screen at 640×480, and runs OnionOS, a community-built firmware that turns a modest Cortex-A7 processor into a near-perfect front end for everything from the NES to the original PlayStation. The interface is clean, the emulator library covers over a hundred platforms, and save states work the way save states should.
The Miyoo Mini Flip takes the same hardware and wraps it in a GBA SP-style clamshell, adding screen protection and an extra wave of nostalgia. Early production runs had hinge concerns, though those appear to have been addressed in more recent batches. At $69-99, this is the gateway to the category that doesn’t feel like a compromise. The honest question isn’t whether this device is worth the money, since it clearly is. It’s whether starting here will satisfy the itch, or simply make you want to own the other six devices on this list as well.
What we liked
Genuinely pocketable at 200g, fits in a jeans pocket without bulk
Covers NES through PS1 with confident performance
Mini Flip clamshell adds nostalgic GBA SP energy and screen protection
